Typo Squad, page 2
part #1 of Typo Squad Series
Thea had unloaded a small, one-person tent from the SUV and was setting it up in a patch of grass near where she had parked. As Dick watched, she hammered in one of the tent poles and pulled the main rope tight to tie around it.
Dick shook his head slowly. He opened the beer, took a long swing, and muttered, “She’ll be gone by nightfall.”
But Thea wasn’t gone by nightfall, nor was she gone the next morning when Dick went into the kitchen to start breakfast. He could see her sitting just outside the tent’s flap, eating what looked like a Pop-Tart. She looked up and, spotting him looking at her, waved happily.
Shortly after noon, Dick emerged from the cabin with his fishing gear in hand and passed by Thea’s tent, where she was still sitting by the entrance.
“Afternoon,” she said. “Ready to come with me yet?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he stated emphatically, heading toward the stream.
“What happened five years ago?”
“Oh, all sorts of things,” Dick said glibly. “Let’s see, there was a presidential election. The guy with the hair won. That show that no one can ever get tickets for opened on Broadway. And the Houston Texans won the Super Bowl.”
“Fine,” she said. “Hey, is that water clean?”
“Of course it is,” he called from his spot in the middle of the stream. “Why?”
She stood, dusted off her pants, and made her way down the bank. “My face could use a wash.” She squatted by the water’s edge and began scooping water up to her forehead and cheeks.
Dick cast off his line and tried to lose himself in the peace and quiet. He was just beginning to relax when Thea said, “So.”
He closed his eyes and tried to keep his breathing deep and even.
“Did you know we studied you at Typo Academy?”
Dick’s curiosity was piqued in spite of himself. “You did?”
“Oh yeah.” She pulled off her black boots and socks. “They think of you as something of a legend there.”
He snorted. “A legend. Hardly.”
“Well,” she said, dipping her feet in the water, “you did take down all those errorist cells.”
Dick recast his line. “Yes. But I had plenty of help with that.”
“Maybe so. But they didn’t teach us about anyone who helped you. Just you.”
“How long ago were you at the Academy?”
“I graduated last year,” Thea replied.
“Jesus,” Dick muttered. “Hey, if you studied me, how come you didn’t know it was me when you got here yesterday?”
“Well, the pictures they have of you are a bit outdated,” she said. “You weren’t looking so . . . rugged.” She gestured at her cheeks, and made Dick realize just how long it had been since he’d shaved his beard. It was a wild tangle, growing in every direction and streaked with sections of pure white.
“Oh.” He stroked the hair, feeling its coarseness. “Right.”
“Of course, the Academy’s not the only place where they talk about the great Dick Shonnary,” Thea said.
“No?”
“No. They talk about you at Typo Squad, too.”
“They do?” Dick asked. At some point he’d turned to face her, and had completely forgotten that he was fishing.
“Yeah,” Thea continued. “It’s the same team you used to work with. Anna, Ewan, Big . . . they’re all still there. They love telling stories about the old days. And you figure prominently in most of them.”
“No shit,” Dick said thoughtfully. “And you’re working with those guys now?”
“I am.”
“That’s a great team,” he said, and his eyes unfocused, as though he was looking right through the stream and at a movie screen of memories that only he could see. Then he came back to himself with a snap. She’d been lulling him, trying to soften him up so he’d go back with her.
She seemed to see the change in his mood on his face. “So why not come back and see that great team in person?” she asked quickly.
“No,” he said, turning his back on her. “God, am I ever gonna be able to fish in peace?” he asked the stream.
“Is it still considered fishing if there are no fish involved?” she asked.
Later that night, as Dick lay in bed, his thoughts would not stop chasing one another. He thought of all the great times he’d had with Typo Squad, all the good he’d been able to do. What was he doing now? Hiding out on the top of a remote mountain, not catching fish. He did miss the old gang. And she might be young, but Thea was, based on their earlier conversations, sharp as a tack and, if he was honest, a laugh.
But how could he go back? How could he put it all behind him? How would he be able to do what he did before without always thinking about Chicago?
He stared for a long time at the dimly lit ceiling and didn’t even realize that the soft tap-tap-tap on the roof was rain until it was coming down hard.
Dick threw the cover off, dressed quickly, and grabbed a flashlight. He stepped out the cabin’s back door and squelched into the mud puddle that was already forming there. Slopping through the downpour, he angled over toward the little orange tent.
“Thea!” he called over the downpour. The flap unzipped from inside and Thea popped her head out.
“What?”
He hadn’t really considered why he was out there. It just seemed totally natural to go and get her. To help. Maybe there were some things you really couldn’t unlearn.
“C’mon, come inside,” he said, water dripping off the end of his nose into his beard. “That thing will flood, and then you’ll drown and I’ll have to deal with having a corpse on my property. Less trouble to just have you come in.”
Thea smiled. “Okay. Gimme a sec.”
She disappeared for a moment, then unzipped the flap and came out into the rain. She was still dressed in her Typo Squad uniform, and it was looking a bit worse for wear.
“Didn’t you bring a change of clothes?” he asked as he led her back to the cabin.
“I overestimated my ability to convince you,” she said as she pulled her boots out of the sucking mud. “I thought we’d both be long gone by now.”
They both stumped through the door and into the cabin’s mudroom, drenched and spattered with muck. As they both unlaced their boots, there was a sudden, rattling crash of thunder that made them both pause and look up.
“Just in time, I’d say,” Thea said gratefully.
“Wait here,” Dick said, shaking water off himself. He went to the laundry room and grabbed a flannel button-down and a pair of sweatpants. They’d be enormous on her, but at least they were clean and dry.
He returned to the doorway, handing her the clothes.
“Oh. Thanks,” she said, smiling.
“You can dry off and change in the bathroom.” He pointed down a short hallway. “First door on the left.”
Thea disappeared and Dick put on dry clothes of his own. By the time Thea emerged, looking like a little girl playing dress-up with her father’s clothes, Dick already had a pot of coffee brewing. The rain continued to pound the cabin, and flashes of lightning lit the sky off in the distance.
Thea nodded toward the coffee. “Got anything stronger?”
Dick raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure. What’s your poison?”
“Scotch. Neat,” she said without hesitation, sliding into one of the stools by the kitchen counter.
“Suit yourself.” Dick opened a cabinet filled with bottles of every size.
Once Thea had her drink in hand, Dick sat down across the counter from her. He sipped his coffee as they both listened to the storm rage outside. He noticed her staring at a wall covered in plaques and awards in the next room.
“Are those all—?” she began.
He smiled. “Yeah, all my awards from my Typo Squad days.”
“Wow,” she said, clearly impressed.
“Not that big a deal.”
She slid off her stool and moved closer to the award wall. She pointed at a framed letter at the center of the awards and smiled. “Your school letter.”
Dick squinted. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
She smiled. “I have mine framed, too.” After a pause she added, “We’re special, you and I.”
“Well, I’m special,” he said, stroking his beard. “The jury’s still out on you.”
“Oh, trust me. I’m special.”
“I suppose,” he said slowly, “if I’m going to come back to Typo Squad, I’ll have to shave. Be presentable.”
Her expression brightened immediately. “Are you serious? Don’t screw with me, Dick. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”
“I’ll probably catch the same number of fish either way,” he replied. “So yeah. I’m serious.”
Thea pumped her fist in the air. “Yes! I rule! I have accomplished my mission! I am the queen of Typo Squad!”
“All right, all right, settle down,” Dick said, smiling. “You might not be so excited once you get a taste of working with me.”
“Do you still have your uniform?”
“I do, actually. And believe it or not, it still fits.”
“How would you know that?” Thea asked blankly, then dawning comprehension lit her face. “You’ve tried it on!”
“So what if I have?”
“You’ve been doing Typo Squad cosplay!”
“Oh, grow up,” Dick said. “Hey, let me see your patch.”
“I beg your pardon!” she said indignantly.
“Your Typo Squad patch?” he said patiently. “On your uniform?”
“Oh,” she said. “I thought you meant—”
“Yeah, I know what you thought I meant.” Dick shook his head. “Jesus, I’m old enough to be your . . . father’s younger brother.”
Thea made her way over to the mudroom, where her uniform shirt hung on a row of hooks, and returned with it.
“I actually did have an uncle who wanted to see my patch,” Thea said matter-of-factly. “He eats through a straw now.”
Dick took the shirt, examining the patch sewn on the shoulder. It depicted the tip of an old-fashioned fountain pen on a circle of red, surrounded by a laurel wreath.
“Wow,” Dick said. “Nice. I guess I’ll have to get mine updated.”
“Why?” Thea slid back onto her stool. “What was yours?”
“Oh, it was a bird of prey with a red pen in each talon,” Dick said. “Pretty badass, actually.”
“Maybe you can hang onto it for when we wear our throwback uniforms,” Thea said slyly.
Dick narrowed his eyes and grinned. “Maybe I will.”
The next morning, all indications of the previous night’s storm were evaporated by a dazzlingly bright sun in a cloudless sky. It peeked through the curtains in Dick’s bedroom and poked him right in the eye, waking him much earlier than he would’ve liked. He shuffled to the bathroom in his plaid lounging pants, splashed some water in his face, and looked closely in the mirror.
He examined his face from multiple angles. The beard definitely made him look older, but his icy blue eyes were still bright and relatively free of surrounding wrinkles, and the white that streaked his facial hair had not yet started peppering what was on top. All told, not too shabby.
He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a pair of scissors, a razor, and shaving cream. “Well,” he said as his reflection tugged on his beard, “so long, old pal.”
He came downstairs an hour later. Thea was already at the kitchen counter, dressed and ready to go. She had just raised a glass of orange juice to her lips when she got her first look at Dick and very nearly choked.
“Oh my God!” she sputtered. “Look at you!”
Dick felt his clean-shaven cheeks and buttoned the cuffs of his black uniform shirt. “I guess I’m ready for duty.”
“Oh my God!” she said again, approaching him for a better look. “Wow! If I had known what was hiding under that hillbilly I met yesterday, I might not have slept on the couch last night.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” Dick said. “And a little uncomfortable. Are you ready?”
She shook her head a bit, still disbelieving, and smiled.
“Uh . . . yeah. Ready when you are.”
“Then let’s get going,” Dick said, “before I change my mind.”
CHAPTER TWO
Dick stood next to the SUV, eyeing it nervously. He was really going to do it. He was really going to go back. Butterflies began to take flight in his stomach.
Thea finished packing the rest of her tent and slammed the rear door. Dick jumped a bit.
“All set?” she asked brightly.
He nodded. As she circled the SUV to get in the driver’s side, he made a show of patting down his pockets, as though making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. In the right breast pocket of his uniform shirt, he felt the outline of something. He unbuttoned it and pulled out a few ancient index cards.
“Holy shit,” he said softly, almost reverentially. He flipped through them quickly, reading each one in turn, and felt all of his anxiety melting away.
Thea rolled down the passenger window. “You coming?”
He smiled easily. “Oh yes,” he said. “Yes, I am.”
Dick watched as the trees and his mountain retreated and gave way to suburban sprawls and paved roads. The movement was mildly unsettling; he tried to remember the last time he’d been in a car. Probably five years ago, when he was still with Typo Squad.
“Anna’s going to be pissed,” Thea said suddenly.
“If memory serves, Anna is frequently pissed.” Dick looked uncertainly at the increasing traffic around them.
“I can’t argue with that,” Thea said. “But she bet that I wouldn’t be able to convince you to come back.”
“I’m not back yet,” Dick retorted. “Although I do like the idea of causing Anna to lose money. How much did she put down?”
“Fifty bucks.”
“And what kind of odds did she get?”
Thea smiled. “Two hundred to one.”
“Goddamn,” Dick said. “I would’ve taken that action. But yeah, she’s going to be pissed.”
“Ah, she’ll get over it.” Thea merged toward an exit marked DOWNTOWN LAS PALABRAS.
“Then we must be talking about a different Anna,” Dick said. “The Anna I know is still holding a grudge from the time I emptied the water cooler bottle and didn’t replace it with a new one.”
“Oh yeah,” Thea said. “She did mention something about that.”
“Hey, how’s Ewan doing?”
“Good,” Thea said. “It’s nice having someone with a British accent on Typo Squad. Classes it up.”
“Ewan, my goodness,” Dick said, ruminating. “He wasn’t exactly a spring chicken when I worked with him. He’s got to be, what? In his late hundreds by now?”
Thea laughed. “Could very well be.”
“Hey, does he still talk about his time serving at Buckingham Palace?”
“Yes!” Thea cried. “Every chance he gets!”
Dick nodded. “Has he ever mentioned why that particular gig ended?”
Thea took her eyes off the road to look closely at Dick. “No,” she said, excited. “Why, do you know?”
“Oh,” Dick said vaguely, “one hears rumors.”
“You have to tell me!”
“I don’t know anything for certain,” Dick said innocently. He looked out the passenger side window at the buildings and skyscrapers that now lined their passage. “I only heard that he had an affair with Princess Anne.”
“What?”
“That’s the rumor.”
“Ewan?” Thea said, as though trying to wrap her head around the idea. “But . . . he’s so proper. Not to mention old.”
“Hey,” Dick said defensively. “We were all young once.”
As Thea grinned and shook her head, her phone rang. She answered it quickly. “This is Thea.”
“Thea, it’s Autumn,” the tinny voice said through the speaker.
“Hey,” Thea said. “What’s up?”
“The boss wants to know your ETA.”
Thea glanced at her GPS screen. “About ten minutes.”
“Copy that,” the voice replied. Then, after a short pause, “Is he with you?”
“Say that again?” Thea said, and when she looked over at Dick, he was smiling.
“I asked if he was with you,” the voice said, and Thea couldn’t help but notice the slightly higher pitch and a bit of a flutter in the woman’s voice.
“Hi, Autumn,” Dick said, grinning.
“Richard!” Autumn practically shrieked, causing static on the phone’s speaker. “You old hound! How are you?”
“For a guy who’s been living like a hermit for five years or so, not too shabby.” Dick ran his hand across his newly shorn face. “How are you, darling?”
“Still single,” Autumn offered up immediately.
“Well that’s good to know,” Dick said. “I’d hate to have to duel your husband at ten paces for your affections.”
“If it came to that, I’d shoot him myself,” Autumn said, and giggled.
“Um, if you two are finished?” Thea said as she navigated through increasing midtown traffic.
“I’ll see you soon, beautiful,” Dick said, and before Autumn could reply, Thea hit the END CALL button.
“You and Autumn?” Thea stole a look at Dick as she approached a large intersection.
“Don’t know what you mean,” Dick said. “Just being polite.”
“Uh huh.” Thea turned into a squat gray parking garage. She found a space and threw the SUV into park. “Lucky for you, we’re here. But this conversation is far from over.”
Dick merely shrugged, a smile still spread across his face. “I’m only human, kiddo.”
Thea regarded him with a sideways glance. “I’m starting to wonder.”
Typo Squad headquarters was a shabby two-story brick building next door to police headquarters. Dick and Thea passed through the outer doors and into a lobby, where a stout, jolly-looking woman with short blonde hair sat behind the front desk, laughing to herself. The woman looked up as Dick and Thea approached.
